


My Old Friend,

by WindwiseWords



Series: Xenogen City [51]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Pen Pals, Xenogen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 23:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12692379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindwiseWords/pseuds/WindwiseWords
Summary: Rung receives a new letter from an old pen pal, the first since the end of the war.





	My Old Friend,

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I'm not dead!

A regular occurrence, exactly on time save for four circumstances that he could recall since his late days in peace, after the war had started but not yet in full swing. An old pen pal style writing to contact someone via personal com frequency, yet anonymous. Someone from another region. It was supposed to teach tolerance and acceptance but Rung later realized the reports he wrote on the region were more than helpful for spying into areas guarded by disgruntled citizens.

Despite the realization, which he shared with the anonymous partner, came back to them both as important and throughout the ramp up of the war they discussed their views in private.

After the creation of Xenogen, however, the end of the war, he assumed that when the letters stopped coming the worst happened in the ‘clean up’ of rogue ‘cons. He never asked his perspective, his alliances; he never told his own either.

So, when an encrypted file was delivered by Red Alert to his door instead of his desk, the psychoanalyst assumed Red Alert to be asking for help once more. But when the pad booted up a familiar line opened the file.

_“My Old Friend,_

_Troubling times have befallen our correspondence many times before. I recall the time you told me you would be silent in the warzone, and another while I was deployed in a radio silent sector. Since then we’ve both done our parts to continue regular messaging as in our younger days._

_Forgive my lateness.”_

Rung always did, and smiled as he leaned back in his chair to continue reading.

            _“This time I have no excuse other than fear of rejection.”_

Rung frowned. Rejection? His spark quickened as he realized this may be the end of their talks, or perhaps a reveal. Was he ready to change their relationship to more… Personal? He read on.

            _“My Old Friend, I am entirely certain you’ve heard of Xenogen. Prime’s message has reached me, and I want you to know I am safe in a colony. When we requested to know who had lived, I decided to message you. I wanted to know if you too made it through the dark ends of the war. But my fear stopped me._

_We know each other more than perhaps any other mech you’ve mentioned, and that I’ve mentioned, and yet I came to realize how little we did know. Without being too particularly offensive, I have fears to express._

_You could be a rogue Decepticon, or some kind of spy for either side. I know you say you studied a ‘long time’ with the Academy for psychoanalyzing as well as psychology, but that could have been used in the war. I know I was. We all were._

                        _I’ve decided there’s been enough hiding. You’d be needed on Xenogen, and that is why I’ve sent this message as I have. I addressed it to the ‘oldest mecha known.’ If you are there, it’s surely found its way. If not, then I assume you perished in the war._

_If you recall, when I found you had access to other worlds, I asked for a run-down of their sports. I know sports, very well, and in fact competed professionally before the war.”_

            That was news to Rung, but there were only a handful of athletes that came to mind. He never did care for sports, but they talked about them in the past. A list of past names came to mind; he narrowed down who this pen pal could be quickly.

_“My Old Friend, you are smart enough to figure out who I am. Perhaps you already knew, and just spared me the embarrassment of telling me. You hid yourself well over the eons, but with the war ended and little to lose, I find myself guiding my team toward Xenogen. We hope for a new start, but we’re not the most friendly or accepted bunch.”_

            Decepticons for certain then, or former ones.

_“I need a safe place for them. I may not stay, I may have to continue searching. I lost my squad early in the war. I need to find them again.”_

            In a darker admission one message in the heat of war, his friend admitted he knew his squad to be dead. He blamed himself, but didn’t go into detail. Rung wondered privately if he killed them.

            _“I will be arriving not too long after the timestamp of this message. We do not have to meet, we do not have to even share names. I feel like that would break this little world, as you called it. Where the war doesn’t have to be talked about but it’s safe if we do. But my team needs somewhere safer than where we are now. We are hunted mechs, by all sides.”_

            Rung glanced up at the time, then at the timestamp of the message. Within hours? Minutes?

            _“But I would like to offer you that drink, that meal that I promised while overcharged all those cycles back. I’d like to meet the real you, not just the you that I can read about. I’m nervous about this, to the point that I had a buddy proof-read this message before I sent it off. He understands, he’s done something like this with a romantic interest. In fact, he demanded I bring you some kind of earth plant when we get there. I don’t get organics.”_

            Rung chuckled at that and took his glasses off to rub his optics. Whirl would not like this one bit but he’d reign him in, already starting plans to make sure Whirl didn’t get aggressive.

_“We’ve reached Jupiter now. There’s so much color. I’ve been told Earth is mostly green and blue from a distance but the life there is very colorful. If not a bit fragile and sticky. It’ll take me some time to get used to water, but at least the rain isn’t acid. I’m going to let you go now, My Old Friend, in terms of this message and our relationship. I’ve decided that if you are here, if you come to find me, we can continue right where we leave off here. I’ll need a friend, and probably a therapist. Actually, definitely a therapist._

_I want you to know our talks have kept me sane for the years. I want you to know that despite my history, I’m not all rough and tumble. There’s still a spark in here. I just need help finding it and these slaggers I travel with are helping some._

_I want to pick up right where we left off here. So, I’d like to ask if we can grab a cube and just chat._

_-Your Old Friend.”_

            Blunt as always in the endings. Rung rubbed his optics and realized he already decided to go, hand on the key to his restricted files drawer and locking it. He’d have to catch a ride if he wanted to be on time to the landing pad.

            After a moment to compose himself, he pressed the com link on his desk. “Whirl, I need your assistance. I have to get somewhere, and I’m about to be late. Do you have the time?”

 

            Whirl of course had the time, though he insisted it counted as therapy time and therefore didn’t have to show up the next session. Rung made a deal with a half-session, and ended up one of few mechs at the landing pad. He’d brought the message as both proof and comfort, and watched the sky spark a new light as the ship entered. Raggedy, barely functioning, but they made it. And even landed it before something caught fire.

            Six of the most disheveled and ruffled mechs ran out screaming at each other, trying to stomp out fires on the landing platform. Rung watched each one of them, slowly picking their social structure apart. He didn’t know who he was looking for, exactly, but some foolish part of him figured he’d know right off from sight. One was missing part of his head, the other was well known to be as bad a shot as Swerve, and one of them had to be dragged away from hiding behind the ship. Fire crews began to spray them with foam, all but one who had the sense to stand away from the ship and the screaming mechs to rub his face and sigh.

            Rung decided to come over and greet him. “A long trip often has effects like this on a tightly quartered crew.” The mech nodded, then froze. He glanced over at Rung. A very intimidating, large purple and green mech. Rung vaguely recognized him but he couldn’t put a finger on where from.

            The mech stared at Rung, and Rung stared back with a slightly questioning little smile. “Got'a message there?” The bot said slowly, pointing at the datapad.

            “Ah, yes actually. A pen pal of mine…” Rung trailed off. This mech? Rung frowned and began to study him. He had said he was a fighter, and appeared to present as the leader of this bunch. His mouth dropped slightly in an awed gape.

            The other mech seemed unsure of what to do at the moment of meeting, and finally just shrugged and ‘smiled’ as best he could.

            Rung returned it much more brightly. “Is that drink still good? I know a wonderful little bar, I happen to know the owner. My name is Rung, by the way…”


End file.
